


The Tower

by Jammy



Category: Neopets
Genre: I promised that I wasn't going to be posting any of this but...well I never listen to myself, KnightsAU, Other, Regrets, idk what else to tag other than, knights AU, pffft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10100774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammy/pseuds/Jammy
Summary: Nickolas, the youngest member of the royal family comes to terms with his birthright. To become the lord of Harold's Crest, protect his town, and bring pride back into his family name.Ch. 2: The Search- Things were looking up for the village, but poor young Nickolas is struggling to his people overcome their losses while dismissing his own grief. Ludwig insists that he should stay in the castle but how can he? Especially now, when a prince the same age as himself is in need of his aid?Ch. 3: Grey- The search for Simeon continues and it takes both Nickolas and Tormo to the front gates of the stronghold, at a little camp that was set up by the previous captain before the attack. In the midst of deciding what else to do a mysterious knight appears and he's baring familiar looking house colors.





	1. A Born Leader

**Author's Note:**

  * For [werelupewoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/werelupewoods/gifts), [t3f3r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/t3f3r/gifts).



> Soooo, uh, I had said I wasn't going to post 'official' chapters or anything from my KnightsAU fic, mostly because it's something I just write in to vent out, it's all completely unorganized and--well I didn't think anyone was interested in it. 
> 
> These aren't set in stone, I might go back and change a ton of things in whatever chapters I continue in this. But, for now, here's the "official" chapter 1 to my Knights story. Also, I decided to call this series 'the Tower', I won't spoil anything but The Tower in the tarot deck means that shit is goin' down [Literally: "your world will be shaken up"]. 
> 
> Anyways, if this ever updates then I will put it in the title/summary Enjoy.

There was silence in the grand hall, even though there had to be more than a hundred individuals sitting at the long wooden tables or on the floor. Huddled together were wives and sisters, mothers and aunts, cousins of old and young, children whispered hushed concerns to one another while their mothers silently tell them to quiet down. Many of the elderly had thier heads bowed in prayer, hoping that this was all but just a horrific dream and there was no harm coming to their homes or their sons outside of the stronghold. The doors that lead deeper into the castle opened with two knights there to hold the large wooden and metal doors, they turned and stood still, their backs straightened in silent salute as a young blonde Gelert with a crown made of roses walked from the open doorway.

 

His bare footsteps were dull as they hit the cold marble floor, his cloak barely grazing the top of the floor as he walked down the short flight of steps and kept walking. His gaze shot from the doors all the way across the large threshold to the people on either side of him, whispering a little louder as he walked by, the prince reached up with one hand to grab the opening of his cloak and kept it closed. It was his only sense of security, the only thing that was keeping him calm.

 

He knew they were talking about him, this year hasn't started off at it's best. First with his father falling ill after a failed assassination attempt, then his older sister getting pregnant and running off with a commoner all to leave himself as the only other soul provider. And now this, an attack from a kingdom that had sworn to be their ally. The news of the attack didn't do any good for his father, Daniel, the jarl of Harold's Crest. The attack lasted twenty days exactly before the jarl succumbed to his injuries and the poison that had been on the blade used in the attempt, on his deathbed Daniel had left his youngest son Nickolas to be the new Lord of Harold's Crest. Once he is old enough, he will then go through initiation with the other surrounding kingdom leaders to become a jarl permanently. Nickolas knew this was no time to hide, no time to grieve over the death of his father as he has a job to do. The people--his people, need help.

 

Nickolas' ears twitched when he heard a cry of a baby and he told himself to take a slow calm breath of air, these people are his new family now. He stopped walking to look over to the left of him, seeing the young mother trying to silence her infant and then to his right where he caught a glimpse of an elderly woman trying to hide her tears from her grandchildren, who keep asking in soft voices where their mother and father were. He was told by his father and older brother that running a village, a stronghold, or even a kingdom--it wasn't pretty. There was going to be death, there was going to be fighting and there was going to be loss. Did it have to be? He hated this, when he was growing up and being taught by the scholars they had spoke nothing but golden gilded words of victory, triumph, champions and success. Prosperity and wealth through the land and mutual understandings between kingdoms, when they spoke of war or battles they spoke only of the aftermath, not what happened during the whole thing, not about what the people did and suffered through...

 

"My lord." one of the knights had been following him down towards the main entrance of the castle and stopped to wait patiently when the young gelert did. Nickolas looked back at him, the knight was far older than himself, closer to his father's age and the scars that covered his bare arms, face and beak only showed what to expect during all of this turmoil. Still, with the patience of a father the short knight took another step closer and gently grabbed the prince by the elbow, his voice low and cautious. "Are you ready?"

 

"Yes." Nickolas answered promptly and he grabbed the hood by the sides so he can flip it over and have it cover his head and ears, though his face was still visible it wouldn't be from the back or sides. The young prince found out early that morning that the attack had been seized, the enemy had retreated and now it was time to see the damage. Nickolas insisted that he'd see it for himself, if he is to know how bad this was he needed to be there in person and observe his stronghold and village, he needed to see what had to be fixed first and what could wait. If it can.

 

Also, there had been a very intriguing rumor among the knights. One claiming that an assassin was the cause of the enemy's retreat, surely it will be easy to find such a man among his innocent people.

 

The Darigan Bruce opened the large wooden doors just enough so that the prince can slip through before him, when he had gone through he turned to the second knight that walked with them and told them to keep the doors locked until he gives the secret knock. Down the stone steps that trailed into the village Nickolas could already see homes and other establishments that have been burned down, broken into or just completely demolished. The closer they got to the village the more that Nickolas can smell the stench of blood, smoke and other questionable things in the air, it was terrifying--to say the least. He has never experienced anything close to this before, death and despair took over this once cheerful little town that Nickolas and many others have called home. There were many knights and other stronger civilians that were running around, searching for injured or sick and taking them to the side in hope that they can be healed with their medicines and skillful healers. Nickolas was beginning to feel hope though when his foot stepped onto the soft dirt, he couldn't really explain it but it felt like a spark against a whetstone that starts the fire's first flame. The knight that had escorted him saw this flicker that came behind Nickolas' eyes and a small grin tugged the corner of his beak just an instant before he stood besides him.

 

"Orders, my lord?"

 

"I want to know everything that is happening right now," Nickolas looks back and forth from one knight to the other, "let's talk to the others, find out what the damage is, who is missing so we can make search groups--oh--and if there's any injured then have them escorted to the castle first. Let the others who are escorting the sick and injured learn what the secret knock is." The Darigan Bruce taps his chest armor in salute before hurrying off to carry the orders, Nickolas took a few steps and walked over to a woman who sat down next to a few cots that held injured men. The woman was a white ixi wearing a long cloak over her head and shoulders, her hands glowed a beautiful green hue as she tried desperately to mend the internal and external injuries. The young prince got down next to her, "I would like to help." the young ixi looks up, her eyes wide and he knew that she was going to refuse the help but the other man she didn't tend yet began to groan and cough.

 

"If you can, my lord. Start healing that one there." her accent was thick and foreign, Nickolas nodded in understanding however and quickly scuttled over to the man, he rests one hand on the injured knight's shoulder to ease him back down and then used his other hand to gently glide over his chest inch by inch. His hand begins to glow as bright as the sunlight and he focuses his energy and mind on healing whatever it was that ailed this knight of his army. Nickolas quickly looks over to search for anymore injuries that might pose to be fatal but couldn't find anymore other than the usual cuts and bruises, his breath stops once he realizes that the knight is still. "He's just resting now, you've done a fine job, my lord."

 

"Thank you..." Nickolas breathes in relief and he turns to another man just behind him, "And this one too?"

 

"Yes, and that will be it from me. We will escort them to the castle when you are finished."

 

"Good." the young blonde is already at work with healing the other pet's head injury, he's still conscious and by the looks of it, he's feeling much more at ease as the healing spell continues to mend is wound. Nickolas takes his hand off from the man's head and even though they are covered with blood the knight grabs hold of them and kisses the back of them in thanks, the young prince nods his head sincerely, gently touching his forehead against the knight's. "Rest now, dear knight. We are proud of your services and and the sacrifices made by you, your brothers and sisters." The knight nods his head slowly and leans back again onto the cot, Nickolas looks over to the young ixi as she wraps up the man she just finished healing, a sigh escaping from her. "I will be out, asking the others who are missing and what supplies we need."

 

"Do not worry about the supplies, I will inform my husband what we need and he will tell the other warriors." Nickolas thanks her for all her hard work and with a soft laugh she stands up and hurriedly dusts off the bottom of her skirt. "Do not thank me just yet, there's far more that still needs to be done, my lord." 


	2. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were looking up for the village, but poor young Nickolas is struggling to his people overcome their losses while dismissing his own grief. Ludwig insists that he should stay in the castle but how can he? Especially now, when a prince the same age as himself is in need of his aid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this chapter all finished up and tidy, yay! Sorta tidy I mean...  
> I can't write Ludwig for long, unfortunately, he's such a creep. Anyways, I'll explain in the next summary 'cause I don't wanna spoil anything. 
> 
> Here's wonderwall.

"It is not safe for you to be out here by yourself, my lord." It wasn't mature nor prince-like for Nickolas to roll his eyes at his father's advisor, but it had happened anyways. The young lord answered, again for what felt like the fifth time since he's been outside to help the relief knights, that he wasn't alone. And he wasn't. Griff, the Darigan Bruce, was the one that had escorted him outside again and he got to work with helping his wife Bianca, the healer, to guide the sick and injured inside. That had been going on since the early morning light. Then Nickolas went to a few other knights who were removing debris from an old property so they can help a family find their heirlooms that had been passed down from ancestors before them, they were successful with finding a few items and then they began to clear it out so they can have a new group of civilians--the self proclaimed 'carpenters guild'--come in and begin to rebuild their old home to it's former glory. Nickolas was proud to see that more of the townspeople were coming out from hiding to help rebuild the village, he understood that most of them were scared in case the enemy was to come back but the ones that had come out to help knew that if their home was to become home again, they had to face their fears and rebuild.

"Besides, what are ** _you_** doing right now?" the young Gelert asks defiantly without looking over his shoulder to the blonde Gnorbu, "You could've been out here with me since the early morning so that I wouldn't have to be running around 'by myself', Ludwig. Look, even the Aribas Brothers are out here getting their hands dirty--and they're _scared_ of the daylight!"

"My lord, if you were _inside_ at all then you would've seen that I was making burial arrangements for your late father." Ludwig states matter of fact the very moment he coughs into a closed fist, Nickolas looks away to hide his face--or maybe his shame. He did miss his father, immensely, he and John had been as close as any father and son could have been. He's been running around the stronghold for so long that he didn't really have the time to come to terms with his feelings about the jarl's passing, or to grieve over the death of his family member. His mother had passed on many years before when he was just a few months old, so he never really got to feel what it was like to lose a parent before. And it never really began to sink in until now....his father, was **_gone_**. "It's quite...mature of you to run around aimlessly and try offering services to these commoners, it's the first beginning steps to becoming a stronger leader after all--"

"Ludwig." Nickolas' head snaps up the moment he heard the word 'commoners' and the young Gelert can't help but frown at the tone that this advisor was using. Sure they were of higher class but that didn't mean that they had to talk or treat the townspeople as lower beings, without a title they were the same as anyone else. They all bled, after all. And frankly he didn't like the tone that Ludwig had used to talk about the other townspeople--their people--that made their home what it is. "I do not care what your views are about these people, and I certainly do not care what harsh words you and father had shared about them when he was alive, but to me these people are family. Don't you dare disrespect them or talk that low of them in my presence, do I make myself clear?" Ludwig frowns against the prince's orders, and without hearing a word Nickolas takes a step forward and gets up on his toes to stare right into the yellow Gnorbu's blue eyes. "Do I make myself _clear_ , Ludwig?"

"Yes, my lord. Crystal clear."

"Good." Nickolas takes a step back and sighs, he's not a man of aggression but he had to learn to make his point across...at least, that's what his father and older brother had told him constantly. 'You're too soft', 'show some more anger', how could he if he can barely get his father's advisor to listen to him? He'd think that all it was going to take is practice but let's face it, he can't really change who he is. Learning to be a balanced leader was going to be harder than he thought. "Good, good." he takes a moment to look around and see if there was anywhere he can squeeze in to help, but it seems that more families were leaving the castle and coming out to help their neighbors. Nickolas smiled, he had a wonderful village indeed, friends and family that were so eager to help the others.

"My lord!" a voice from behind called, Nickolas turned around and was surprised to see a young royal Gelert about the same age as himself. He was wearing garbs that closely resembled that of one of the seven royal families of Harold's Crest, telling from the red and gold family crest that was sewn to his tunic it was without a doubt that the royal family this man came from was the Rathbone family. It was quite the honor, they were vastly known for being incredible fighters, scholars and magic users. And, of course, they were one of the very first founders of Herald's Crest, so that meant that this young Gelert before him was also a prince. Just like he.

Nickolas barely reacted in time to help catch the royal when he tripped over himself, the young Gelert was gasping in between sobs and breaths of air. Clearly in distress, Nickolas got on his knees to help the other sit on the floor and regain his strength and breath. "M-My lord...please...I need your help."

"Of course, Prince--uhm--"

"T-Tourin. My name is Tourin Rathbone." Tourin sniffles some more, trying to wipe the tears away from his face and the sniffles on his nose while Nickolas wraps his arms tightly around the prince's shoulders. Tourin is shaking like a leaf in the wind and Nickolas brings the prince closer, trying to comfort the distressed Gelert in silence and ease the shaking. "I-It's my cousin Simeon...I...he's missing, my lord. During the attack his wife was....his home....it's all gone...she wasn't there and his home was destroyed and--and he swore revenge against the attackers. I tried to tell him 'no'--I tried to stop him and bring him to the castle...b-but he slipped away when we were being escorted by the guard...a-and now I can't find him. I-It's been three days, my lord, I-I'm worried for him." Nickolas hushes him, gently rubbing his upper arms and holding him close and whispering that he will go out with a few knights and search for his cousin. It was true, Nickolas had heard of a Simeon Rathbone--he was a very good magic caster and fighter, from what he's heard amongst the other royals he had once been cornered by five thugs and took them out in under two minutes. Simeon was a kind and stern individual, someone must've seen where he went after the attack, he was a man that could be easily seen in a crowd. Nickolas looks up to his newly appointed advisor who was staring off at nothing in particular, good, he seems unoccupied.

"Ludwig, please escort Tourin to one of the refugee tents. You two can start asking around there, all the while you can get something warm to eat and calm down. We'll find your cousin Tourin, this I promise you." Nickolas smiles some more when the prince wraps his arms around him, thanking him over and over in between fits of sobbing. The young blonde urges the prince and Ludwig to get a head start while he goes to retrieve Griff or one of his brothers to start asking around on the other side of the stronghold. Griff unfortunately was nowhere to be found, but his younger brother Tormo was seen standing in front of the well, splashing his face with cool water. Yes, this one had to be Tormo, the Darigan Bruce looked very similar to his brother except that he had no scars on his face and wore the classic spiked collar around his neck. And, unlike his older brother, Tormo prefered to wear the Frein family crest on his torso and back. "Sir Tormo?" Nickolas asked carefully stepping over to the knight, the Darigan quickly shook his head to get all the access water off of him and he sighs.

"Yeah?"

"I require your assistance," without any other reason (then to look a little tougher, in his mind) he puffs his chest out a bit when Tormo turns around and his expression changes from solemn to surprised and back to emotionless, "though, if you are too busy than maybe you can point me to where Griff is instead." he wouldn't like to admit it aloud, but Griff was a knight that Nickolas had learned to trust, especially over the last week when they would work together and help the townspeople. And he wouldn't mind avoiding any kind of confrontation with this knight if it meant that he could just to run to Griff instead. Fortunately for him it looked like Tormo was getting ready to leave, he leaned over so that he can grab the claymore that was leaning against the well besides him and tie it to his back with an aggravated sigh.

"I'll help ya then m'lord, unfortunately Griff's out cleanin' the woods with th'others."

"Cleaning the woods..?" that really didn't make any sense, how could someone go out and clean the woods? Er, well, maybe he should be thinking 'what is there to clean' that could be out in the woods. The fires that claimed some of the homes were all in the village, there shouldn't be any other form of debris from burning anything out past the gates unless it fell off of the enemy's Unis.

"Didn' ya hear, my lord?" Tormo stood up a little straighter as he began to walk past him, to hurry on Nickolas followed closely behind the Darigan Bruce. "The last o' the enemy's army were found just south o' here, apparently the assassin that caused the retreat slaughtered the las' o'them."

"Wait so the clean-up..." the young lord couldn't bring himself to say it, he couldn't believe it though--there was a man that had gone out and hunted down the very last of the enemy's army. Killing every single one of them and then just leaving their bodies out in the woods? 'Yeah' Tormo answered once he didn't hear the rest of the young Gelert's sentence.

"Well, whatever ya kill gotta land somewhere, m'lord. An' if this guy is any decent then he figures jus' as anyone else, we wouldn' bury the scum that killed our friends n' family." Nickolas nods his head a little but he can't help but still feel uneasy at the mere thought that right now, his men are out clearing out the bodies that are--somewhere else outside of the safety of their gates. It was even hard just to think what that would look like, it all sounded like some scary story. A bunch of dead knights all found in the woods, killed by a cold hearted assassin...

"Um..." this was going to be weird to ask, he knows it. Tormo doesn't bother to look over at Nickolas even when he hears the pet struggling to ask, he answers to his lord that it was better just to spit it out then to sugarcoat his question, so the prince nods his head. "I was just wondering--just how many men were in that ambush--I mean--the slaughter."

"None o'our men were there. A'least, none o'the ones that were slaughter'd were ours. They all bared crests o'the Shaeden." Tormo got silent for a moment, rather to think what he was going to say or to mentally count just how many men there were at the scene. "Had to be a'least twenty six o'them, sir." Twenty six men from the Shaeden, the kingdom that had vowed their loyalty to Harold's Crest many years ago, what did they do wrong? What happened that had caused one of their allies to attack their small peaceful stronghold? It wasn't fair...it wasn't right either, it's because of them that the jarl is dead.

No.

No he can't hold a grudge, no matter how bad things are.

"Sir?" Nickolas looks up now realizing that he had stopped walking and the other knight was far up ahead, with a quick apology the prince hurriedly runs up to catch up to the Darigan. It takes a moment of silence between them before Tormo clears his throat, Nickolas knows that all the knight's trying to do is strike up a conversation, or something, at least he's trying his best. He can honor that act of kindness. "I'm sorry, about Jarl Devant--"

"Thank you for your words, but," Nickolas cuts off with a forced smile, the man he walked with doesn't answer anything else but nods knowing that all he wants is to be spared any words about his father's passing. From the lack of any other comment it could only mean that Tormo was a knight who also knew just how hard it was to overcome a loved one's death, or maybe he had lost someone else? Nickolas turns his attention away so that he can over look the large courtyard and the people who hurried around in it's dirt. "we have much more to worry about now. Our objective now: Is we're looking for a missing prince. Sir Simeon from the Rathbone house."


	3. Grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Simeon continues and it takes both Nickolas and Tormo to the front gates of the stronghold, at a little camp that was set up by the previous captain before the attack. In the midst of deciding what else to do a mysterious knight appears and he's baring familiar looking house colors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright!! So! I adopted this headcanon with Em, that Jenner [the Gelert assassin] went by a different name before when he used to live a normal life. Well, her headcanon is that the Gelert assassin's name was Jenner and then he turned to Simeon, and my adopted vers. is that he went by Simeon before Jenner. So yeah. Anyways, yay! Nickolas found him! 
> 
> Also, since Nickolas is younger here he can't control his Insight so well and so he has "fits" of reading people's life and memories on accidents. Mostly they come when Nickolas and whoever he stands with are emotionally unstable, or when he looks into someone's eyes. 
> 
> Anyways, here's wonderwall.

"Yur certain he'sa spotted gelert, m'lord?"

"Absolutely! You can't _not_ find Simeon! He's spotted, he's strong looking, always in smiles, he's always around the fountain playing with his magic--says the others that have known him well--I used to see him outside of the castle sometimes, I know who he is." Nickolas and Tormo had been asking around for hours and thus, they couldn't find prince Tourin's cousin Simeon Rathbone. Nickolas was not only starting to worry, but he was starting to become distressed as well. How is is that a man can just disappear overnight like smoke? He had to be somewhere in the stronghold, maybe he was alongside Griff and the knights that were burying the fallen Shaeden and so he's been away for long hours. Tormo on the other hand was beginning to get impatient, he's mentioned a few times while he and the young Prince were searching the stronghold and the village that maybe Simeon was no more, he might've been killed in battle and ran off to confront the ambush only to be taken away. But unfortunately for him Nickolas isn't one to give up so easily, even if something that drastic had happened to the knight Nickolas wants to be sure that he brings him home so his family can mourn.

"Maybe we shoul' ask around fora 'Sir Rathbone' instead." Tormo suggests scratching the underside of his beak with a free hand in thought, he looks over in time to see the young blonde's puzzled expression so he further explains. "Well, as long as we find _som'one_ from the Rathbone family, we'll eventually come up 'cross a Simeon Rathbone, right? Or som'one who's seen 'im."

"Oh! You're absolutely right." Nickolas gasps clapping his hands together excitedly, finally they were getting somewhere. He had promised Tourin that he was going to bring his cousin home, even if it meant alive or dead because he was a Gelert of his word. He will not rest until he's retrieved the lost royal. "Let's return to the camps near the outskirts of town, that's where most of the knights have been gathering. Other than the knights in the south."

"Yes m'lord."

It was a good thing that the stronghold was so small compared to that of neighboring kingdoms, it might've taken them an hour or so to reach the outskirts if that was the case. But just outside of Heralds Crest's gates were two tents and a small campfire, around were captains of knights, there were squires that bustled about getting supplies for their masters and there were even archers readying their bows and quivers. It looked as though another war was going to take place here, with so many knights scuttling away to ready their Unis and completely fasten every little strap on their armor. The weirdest thing about this had to be that the knights weren't really communicating, not in the way they were supposed to. They yelled at their squires to retrieve their items and help them into their harnesses and bring them their weapons, but the knights didn't talk to their equals. Strange. Nickolas was aware that they had made camp here in case of anymore ongoing attacks come from the enemy but being that no one was communicating other than yelling at the young apprentices it just didn't...feel right. The prince looks over at the tough looking Darigan Bruce besides him who--by the look on his face--looks just as troubled as Nickolas does at the fray outside of their village.

"The enemy attacked from the shore." it sounded more like a statement than it did a question but Tormo completely understood what Nickolas meant, he nods his head and confirms that they did. "Then why are the knights all gathered by the front gates? Shouldn't they be keeping an eye on the west?"

"The west n' the south, even if we have men there we migh' still be attack'd." Tormo musters, he clicks his beak in silent contemplation and looks around the make-shift camp to see just where the knight in charge was. If anyone had told the guards to set up here than that meant there had to be someone in charge, but by the looks of it no one wasn't really running to any knight in particular for confirmation, they all ran around with squires at their heels as if they were petpets being chased by small children. Without a motive, without a mission and without order. It was all a very embarrassing sight; especially in the presence of the Lord of Harold's Crest, Tormo couldn't help but turn his attention away from his prince with shame cloaked on his stern looking features. "Looks t'me that they're ain' no leader here, m'lord."

"Well this is unpleasant, indeed." the young lord sighs under his breath and crosses his arms, he can't help but shift where he stood as a heavy cloud of anxiety claimed his shoulders as it's perch, just at the mere _thought_ that he has to find someone to lead his men. He surely can't, no way, Nickolas didn't see himself as one to command anything. Especially because he didn't really know the procedures that knights were taught or the orders they were usually given--but that's why there was a captain of the guards--they just had to find someone who knew all there was about training knights. "Who was the previous captain of the guards, Sir Tormo?"

"Jarl Devant, m'lord."

"Oh no." Nickolas quickly closes his muzzle the very moment the comment fell from his mouth, he's greeted with the very puzzled expression coming from the knight besides him and the young prince can't help the embarrassed flush that appears on his pale features. "Sorry I...uh...I'm not fit to lead these men, I hope you understand." Tormo inquires that if Nickolas was now the jarl of the stronghold, it meant that he was the one to be appointed as the captain of the guards. Nickolas's hands fidget nervously as he reaches up to grab a strand of his golden hair as he quietly stammers, "I'm the Lord, yes, but I--I've not been knighted--I'm not even a **_squire_**." The Darigan Bruce's hand flies up to his face in aggravation and realization that, yup, they are completely alone on this now. If Nickolas was a squire then there might've been a chance that he can order a couple of knights around, since he knew about their routines but he's not a squire--or a page--that meant he truly had no idea how to lead these bumbling tin cans.

"Ohh-kay." Tormo sighs looking around and he buries his face into his palm when he hears two Knights arguing over what grounds to cover and how many men they can take each with them towards the mountains. The mountains? Really? Other than getting a vintage point of their land there was really no other reason to go up there, especially if the stronghold was in a fragile 'can-still-be-taken-over' state. "If ya don' mind stickin' around here ta watch this ship wreck of'a camp, I think I can grab Griff an' bring him here."

"What for?"

"Well if ya wan' people to listen, som'times ya gotta be strict 'bout it. Y'know, start yellin' an' scarin' the shit outta people so they can listen." strange how he was the one trying to teach the Prince in how to put his foot down but then again, this was Nickolas. Unlike his older brother Alhponse, Nickolas was a sweet Gelert who wouldn't dare raise his voice at another, in anger nor to state his opinion. He was soft spoken and sweet. And this situation was beginning to feel a little more awkward when he looks over and sees the distressed look on the young prince's face. "If these guys can' even put their armor on I doubt they'll leave b'fore I get back, m'lord." Tormo dropped his hand and was about to take his leave when the camp immediately grew silent, the knights and their squires all stopped moving once a Gelert appeared from one of the two tents. Though he didn't stand to his full height he was fairly tall, his long silver hair was a tangled mess upon his shoulders and he wore armor that didn't cover his arms but bore the crest of his family.

The Rathbones.

Those sharp golden eyes looked amongst the men around the tent, with a strong--but staggering--step forward the grey Gelert slowly made his way over to a stand that held various swords and other weapons of trade. The way that he picked up a sword and tried to balance the weight in his grasp only proved to Nickolas and Tormo that whoever this man was, it was obvious that he was injured. As if dared to take the chance a large red Grarrl--one of the two knights that happened to be arguing about how many men he can take with him--stomped towards the Gelert, his chest puffed out and his stance strong.

"You there, Rathbone--" the Grarrl watches for a moment as the royal in armor didn't bother to answer, instead just began to grab a few more weapons from the stand and tie it slowly to his belt. "--you have another thing coming if you even think that you can just waltz in to grab whatever you seem fit and take it with you." The Gelert doesn't answer, his eyes strayed a moment from his work to stare at the larger looking pet and then return back to his belt to finish tying a hilt in place. Feeling ignored the Grarrl grabs the Rathbone by the wrist, "Hey, I'm talking to--"

**_*crunch!*_ **

The Rathbone quickly grasps onto the larger knight's arm and in a single swoop, flips him over so that he falls onto his back, knocking the air out of the Grarrl and leaving him unconscious in the dirt. The other knights that stood there watching quickly peddled backwards to get some more room away from the scenario, a few even grabbed the swords and weapons on thier holsters and waited for the Gelert to turn towards them in case he was ready to attack. But nothing came. The royal Gelert turns around again and grabs two more blades, ties them to his belt and uses the longsword he grabbed to hold himself up as he slowly wobbles away from the camp. Not a single soul daring to question where he was going or what he was doing.

Except for one.

"M'lord!" Tormo hisses once Nickolas begins to hurry to the dangerous looking grey Gelert, it was already too late to try being subtle about this now, once Nickolas begins to tail the Rathbone all the other knights begin to realize that this was the _Prince_ who was going to confront this man and all who watched rather turned away or held their breath. Tormo was the only one who began to run after the young blonde. "Sir!" Nickolas ignored his companion and ran a little faster so that he was ahead of the grey knight, he turns and stops walking with almost three feet in between himself and the Rathbone, making the grey Gelert stop in his tracks and giving the silent pet time to observe this reckless boy even further.

He was young and almost two heads shorter than himself, but in his eyes one can see knowledge and forgiveness...a strange combination for someone so young. Against the pale colors of his fur and hair, the crown of flowers he wore on top of his head stood out like fire in a golden wheat field. It took a moment for him to realize who it was that bothered to cross his path, it was the jarl's son himself.

“Sir Rathbone, I presume?” the young lord asked taking one last glance down to observe the other gelert’s bare hands and arms, covered with scars and bruises from an unknown assault, and then his tattered armor. This couldn't be the man he was looking for, they were looking for a spotted Gelert, still, Nickolas didn’t know the Rathbone house had a grey gelert in their family. For Tourin's sake, hopefully this man knows more about Simeon's whereabouts.

“Yes.” Jenner responded coldly the instant the smaller blonde had began to observe him, to make him look up. Maybe his tone was a little too harsh, but it was called for. Lord of the stronghold or not he has no right in looking for...whatever it was he was trying to find in him. Despite the front that Jenner was showing to him however, Nickolas nodded his head sternly and stood a little straighter, his hands tightened into fists so he could gather the courage needed to talk to this mysterious knight.

“Excellent, you are just the man I needed to see." Nickolas ignores the warnings Tormo hisses under his breath when he finally catches up to them and he even gets in front of the Bruce once Tormo tries to get in between him and the Rathbone, there was no reason for this grey Gelert to attack him. "We're in desperate need of your help, Sir Rathbone, we're looking for a young Simeon--"

"Simeon is dead." the Rathbone answers, again, with words so cold it begins to send shivers down Nickolas and Tormo's spine. Tormo raises his hands in the air with a 'Great! I knew it!' but Nickolas shakes his head in shock. That can't be, he told Tourin...

"He can't be--I--I saw him! Surely it was someone else--"

"Simeon." the grey Gelert hesitates but takes another step forward to stare right into the Prince's eyes, "Is **_dead_**." There was a heavy atmosphere that began to settle in between them, though Nickolas can see it in those honey colored eyes that the Gelert knows much more than he lets on. That was when something flashes before Nickolas' eyes the very moment he and this Rathbone lock eyes.

_There was a home on fire, there was desperate screams and cries that strained his throat. Memories of good times began to fade faster with each sickening second he couldn't see her, the very world as he knew it was coming to an end. She was gone. **They** were gone. 'I'm going to kill them....I'm going to kill them. Every. Single. One of them. For taking the very thing in this world away from me, they will pay with their miserable life.' He rode on a neighbor's Uni, he had caught up to one of the attackers and he didn't even give any word of warning. He pushed his blade through the center of the knight's back, through his chest, and then pulled his weapon out. His ears gave away the position of the next few men that had tried to jump him from the back, he whispered a small spell to summon shadow blades and with the simple wave of his hand the blades flew across the air and pierced the hearts of the five men. There was so much blood....so much anger.....and then there was pain. The stab to his side, the cuts and bruises from the sword fights of the other twenty men he had come cross was nothing compared to the dull ache in his heart and the pounding of blood to his head and eardrums. He fell to his knees, whispered a spell so it can stop the injury to his side from getting any worse but his magic wasn't strong enough. His vision was losing focus as he desperately crawled to the stream, he got there, about to take a drink from the cool rushing water and that was when he saw it._

_He was now grey._

  
Nickolas gasps and he stumbles backwards barely able to catch himself on the Darigan Bruce that still stood behind him, the young prince's eyes moved around making sure that he was still there--in the present--at the camp and not in the middle of the forest where he had just witnessed a--a slaughter. No. If he was able to see that that could only mean that this man...

"Sir Rathbone." the young prince clears his throat as it tightens, he doesn't need to ask now, he knows who this man really was. It felt almost impossible to say anything up at this point, what was there to say? Well, looks like there was nothing else to say than the truth right? Nickolas forces himself to look up though he doesn't look at this man in the eyes in fear that he might see something else on accident. "Y-Your cousin Tourin...he's looking for you, he's worried about you."


End file.
